


Comrade in Irons

by Rahuratna



Category: Naruto
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Murder Mystery, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24929047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahuratna/pseuds/Rahuratna
Summary: After a mission goes horribly wrong, Naruto and Kakashi find themselves deep in enemy territory and forced to battle their way back home. Faced with a series of baffling murders, Shikamaru must unravel a scheme that could destroy his friends as well as Konoha itself.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. First Blood

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fanfiction that has been 9 years in the making. Life has forced me to take many hiatuses (some of them very long) but I have finally reached the final chapters of this fic. Seeing that it has received a positive response over the years, I'd like to post it here too. 
> 
> The timeline follows the time-skip, after Naruto develops the Rasen-shuriken technique, but after that can be viewed as deviating slightly from canon/an unseen part of Naruto's story. Feedback appreciated!  
> (All characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto).

"What's his problem?"

"Shut it, Naruto!"

"Seriously, Sakura-chan! I only asked for . . . "

"I know . . . he's just . . . a little stingy."

They landed on the same branch simultaneously, sandals striking the bark in muffled synchronicity before launching themselves off again. Naruto was slightly ahead of her, his annoyance lending him more energy than usual.

"One riceball . . . that was it . . . "

She gave an exasperated sigh. "What's the big deal? We packed our own food."

He shot her a pained look over his shoulder. She sensed the whine in his voice before she heard it.

"But Sakura-chaaaan . . . ration bars are yuuuurggg."

"I'm not the one who packed them!"

"Then pack the food next time! Kakashi-sensei wouldn't know good food if you strapped it to a kunai and shoved it up his ass."

"I didn't know he was capable of anal ingestion," she replied acidly.

"Well, it's not like we've seen him eat with his mouth . . . "

"Naruto. I'm not having this conversation with you."

Good humour rapidly restored, he bounded noisily off a tree trunk, landed in a squat on a branch below then leaped again, twisting in mid-air so that he faced her.

"Soo . . . Sakura-chan, we're alone up here . . . "

"Turn around you idiot!"

He back-flipped neatly over a branch and grinned. "You were saying?"

Despite herself, her mouth twitched. "It's not the trees you should be looking out for . . . "

"Aaaah . . . Kakashi-sensei's with the old fart. Don't worry about him."

"Let's wait for them a bit. We've scouted far enough, I think."

She dropped onto a branch and ducked from long habit as Naruto sailed over her and scampered up the trunk to the upper branches. Leaning back, she sighed and tilted her head until it touched the dark, gnarled wood behind her, mentally going over their mission briefing. It was a simple C-rank, an escort for the antiquities and incense merchant, Igarashi Saburo. He was returning from a very successful run through Wave Country where he had sold most of his stock. Instead of depositing the bulk of the proceeds at a bank, however, he had chosen to hire shinobi and thus keep his money close without incurring any of the risk. His hometown, when Kakashi had indicated its position on the map, had been north-west of Konoha, near the border of Grass Country. It also seemed, from what they had experienced of him thus far, that he did not easily part with anything ranging from money to food. Glancing up at her team-mate, she found him perched precariously at the apex, the wind rippling in familiar patterns through his sunburst hair, eyes squinting against the sudden glare.

"There's a halfway house up ahead," he called down to her.

"Right. They're almost here."

Down below, their sensei and the client came slowly into her field of vision. She dropped down before them, dusting off her skirt. "All clear, Kakashi-sensei. Naruto saw a rest-stop a short while away."

The jounin nodded, snapping shut 'Icha Icha Tactics' and turning to the wizened man beside him. "We'll stop there to eat and rest. Is that in order, Igarashi-san?"

"Kakashi-sensei!" Naruto landed beside her, dropping his voice to a none-too-soft stage whisper, "Sakura-chan and I think you're an anal connoisseur!"

Said kunoichi sputtered in outrage, face a startling shade of puce. "WHA . . . Naruto! You . . . "

Kakashi gave them a slightly hurt look. "Now, just because I prefer certain reading material, you should not judge . . . "

"Sensei, I didn't say anything! And stop talking about your book!"

Naruto shot the silent merchant a scowl before turning back to Kakashi. "Yeah. You packed those nutrition bars, Kakashi-sensei. Can't you get a wife already?"

"Thank you for the suggestion, Naruto. I'll make sure I pick up a wife at the next stop." The book in his hand fell open at a strategic page. "Let's get moving. We're all a little hungry."

"Hmph. That stingy old man . . . can't share even one riceball . . . "

If the merchant heard any of Naruto's complaints, he certainly wasn't acknowledging it. Setting his lips in a thin, sour line he looked away from the banter of Team Kakashi and sniffed. Sakura caught her sensei's eye and raised an eyebrow. He shrugged, sauntering down the road that widened ahead to open ground. It had never been his priority to question the nature of their clientele.

"Come on, Naruto."

"Forward march!"

"Wait, you idiot!"

Watching the trail of dust hanging in the air of his student's precipitous wake, Kakashi wondered idly when Naruto had mastered such a convincing imitation of Maito Gai.

* * *

The weeks following the onset of Spring were certainly the glory days for Konoha's weather. Fresh and exhilarating, the mornings would dance in with light-footed gaiety, and, by the time the working day had started, the balmy atmosphere and abundant warmth and sunshine brought the villagers out in force. The marketplace was busier than ever on weekends, civilians rubbing shoulders with shinobi, hawkers calling out the merits of their wares, stores thronging with the morning customer crowds and teams of harried genin weaving between all on errand and message delivery duty.

One particular genin team had an errand which found them in the less frequented outskirts of Konoha. Their route took them past the lake and down towards the small cottages forming a cluster on the east side of the village.

"It's too hot for this," moaned Udon, "So tired . . . "

"Stop moaning!" snapped Moegi, "All we need to do is report back."

"Look at them." This comment was directed rather resentfully at the small children splashing about at the edge of the lake below. "So carefree."

"Oh, for heaven's sake . . . "

"You two should get married," Konohamaru muttered, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Think we'll get anything better than D-rank this time round?"

It was Moegi's turn to assume a defeated attitude. "No way. Ebisu-sensei is so boring."

"Naruto-niisan always said he was a closet pervert."

This earned him a slightly baffled look. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Why do you think he always leaves us with the mission and runs off?"

"Huh?"

"So he can spy at the hot springs, obviously." Konohamaru concluded his reasoning with a worldly nod.

"How do you know?" Udon chipped in, "Maybe he's getting some _real_ action."

The three genin paused mid-stride, looked at each other and collapsed, howling with laughter. Their disloyalty went largely unnoticed. Straightening up, Udon reached behind his glasses to wipe away a stray tear. "Oh man, if he hears us . . . "

"I'll take him down with Sexy-no-jutsu!" Automatically, Konohamaru ducked, expecting a heavy blow from Moegi. Turning, he found her standing a little apart, a slight frown wrinkling her brow.

"Moegi?"

"Eh?" Her attention was still focused on the small cottages below the hill.

"Hey!" Konohamaru waved a hand a few inches from her nose, "What's up?"

"Guys . . . there's something . . . " she paused, pointing.

Following the line of her arm, her two team-mates stared in the direction indicated, Konohamaru squinting and Udon pushing his glasses a little further up his nose.

"What? What's there?"

"I don't see anything . . . "

And simultaneously they felt it, a shudder racing through their frames in collective disturbance at the hint of intense killing intent. Moegi took an involuntary step backward and Konohamaru tensed, fists clenching at his sides. 

"Konohamaru . . . "

"Come on." He bit the words out, breaking out of his stupor and into a jagged descent down the sloping shoulder of the hill, hand flying to his waist to retrieve a kunai from his weapons pouch.

"Wait! You don't know what's over there!"

"No time! Move!"

His urgency galvanized the other two and they sprinted after him, uncertainty clouding the glances they sent each other. The scream reached them when they were halfway down, halting them dead in their tracks.

"What the – "

"Konohamaru!"

He had darted forward once again, mouth set in a grim line of determination as the screams went on, high pitched, rising in a crescendo of terror and hysteria. The closer they got, the more intelligible the sounds became, words hurled through the cries in staccato bursts.

"Kenzo! Kenzo! Help . . . please! Oh God . . . please Kenzo!"

They rounded the corner of the last house, colliding with each other at the sight which met them in the back yard. A neat square of grassy lawn, a border of well-tended shrubs and a clothes line hung with pristine white sheets, hanging heavy and translucent with moisture. An overturned clothes basket, the smaller items within spilling across the grass as it rolled towards them. An open doorway, three concrete stairs leading down to the lawn. And a woman kneeling on the lower stair, a young woman, fair hair escaping the neat knot at the nape of her neck, sticking to her contorted, wet face in dark tendrils. Her mouth opened wide when she saw them, hand reaching out as if struck dumb at the sight of the assistance she had been begging. A wide crimson splash covered the front of her floral dress, bright, wet and vibrantly harsh against the faint pink and blue flowers. Her hands and arms were covered too, red droplets hanging from the tips of her fingers and smearing over the grass as she lowered her hand back to the ground, another wail building in her throat. A dark shape rested on her lap, lolling lifelessly with every motion she made.

"Oh God . . . Kenzo . . . please . . . "

"Udon." Konohamaru's voice was a whisper and he cleared his throat, shook his head. "Udon, go get help. NOW."

The bespectacled boy stared at him, dumbfounded.

"Udon, now!"

Something returned to his team-mate then, and he collected himself, nodded and shot away, arms trailing behind him as he sped towards Konoha's main gate. Konohamaru's chest felt constricted as if by an invisible vice, the kunai slipping slightly in his damp palm. He hefted it firmly, planting himself defensively towards the only entrance to the yard. "Moegi, get her away from him."

Without a word, she complied, approaching the woman and gently, but firmly, prying her hands away from the still warm form sprawled across the rear stairs. Instantly, she reacted, shoving at the genin, hysteria rising in her throat as she fought and scratched.

"Konohamaru!"

Swearing slightly, he hesitated, his senses not detecting any hostile chakra nearby. An audience was already gathering slowly at the front of the house, frightened glances and hushed whispers preceding them. Turning, he made his way over to Moegi, tucking the kunai away, and helped her drag the screaming woman away, fingers finding a pressure point on the wildly thrashing neck. They were both short of breath, even though they had run a short distance, the smell of blood overwhelming. Moegi supported the unconscious woman's head and neck in the crook of her arm and looked up at him, face pale, sweat beading her upper lip.

"Is he . . . ?"

Konohamaru straightened slowly, brushing off his arms and leaving faint red smears behind where the woman had pushed at him. Approaching the dead man cautiously, he squatted, careful not to touch the grass and the stairs. The man was dark-haired and looked fairly young, similar in age to the woman. His eyes were closed, mouth open in a dull expression of fear and surprise. His throat had been slashed open, ear to ear, air bubbles coalescing in the stream of blood making its vivid path down his Adam's apple, still pulsing slowly from the ruptured trachea. There was clearly no hope for his survival. Konohamaru had sensed, as soon as he seen the couple on the stairs, that they were both civilians.

Meeting Moegi's eyes, he shook his head. She bit her lip and looked down at the woman on her arm. "Her husband?"

He nodded then shrugged. "Probably."

"Who could have done - "

A soft thrumming disturbance in the air nearby alerted them to another presence. Konohamaru stiffened, hand halfway to his pouch when he saw the hawk-masked ANBU. Straightening, he backed off hastily. "W . . . We found them like this. He was . . . " The ANBU raised a hand and cut him off.

"Report to your jounin-sensei. I will handle this." The muffled voice was toneless, authoritarian, brooking no argument.

Wordlessly, Konohamaru nodded and turned to Moegi who hastily, but carefully, laid the woman on the grass and followed him away, out of the increasingly claustrophobic shoe-box yard. As soon as they were out of sight of the ANBU, they took off at a run, Moegi stumbling slightly as they picked up pace. He saw, but did not comment, merely taking her hand. She made no move to resist.

* * *

At the rest-stop, Team Kakashi ran into another obstacle. Igarashi declared that he was too tired to travel any further that day, and, seeing as he was an elderly man and paying for their services, they had no choice but to comply with his wishes. However, they soon found that his generosity did not extend to providing them with accommodation. A view Naruto verbalized with much volume and overt hand gestures. Kakashi eventually rewarded the shocked and scandalized patrons of the small building with a happy eye-crinkle and a quick removal of their presence from the premises.

"Did you have to be that loud? We've camped out often enough."

"He's such a selfish bastard! He-"

"Now, now," Kakashi cut in, his deeper tones halting Naruto's escalating tirade, "There's an outbuilding out back. There aren't any more rooms available, even if we did dip into mission expenses. We'll camp there for the night. Naruto, if you would be so kind as to set up the sleeping bags. Sakura, see if you can convince them to serve us some supper."

Nodding, Naruto a trifle reluctantly, they set off to perform their respective tasks. Finding himself alone, Kakashi sighed, running a gloved hand through his unruly hair. Adjusting the hitai-ate on his forehead, he settled comfortably on a stack of firewood, elbows resting on his long legs. He licked a finger and turned a page to a highly instructive illustration. He really did love this new edition. It came in colour.

* * *

Some hours later, well fed and slightly lethargic, the three shinobi relaxed in the outhouse in companionable silence, blankets wrapped around their shoulders. Sakura shifted, pulling her legs up to her body.

"Cold, Sakura?"

She shook her head absently. "You think there's any real danger to Igarashi-san, Kakashi-sensei?"

"No more than there is on any escort mission. He paid for a C-rank mission, so that is the level of vigilance we must exercise."

Naruto grunted. "I'm surprised the old bastard shelled out for a C-rank, anyhow. It must have felt like giving up his mother to missing-nin."

Sakura grinned. "Or Kakashi-sensei giving up 'Icha Icha Tactics'."

Their sensei's lone grey eye took on a forlorn, distant expression. "Let's not speak of such things," he whispered. Their laughter echoed around the small room. Sakura yawned and stretched. "I'm turning in. Night."

Naruto promptly followed her, earning his first solid punch of the mission when he attempted to climb into the same sleeping bag. The last image Sakura saw before she drifted off to sleep was as familiar as the chafe of the sleeping bag and the chill of the night air on her cheeks. Naruto's recumbent form and spiky yellow hair, arms sprawled out of his sleeping bag and Kakashi, headband hanging from between his slim, clever fingers, elbow propped on one raised knee, outlined against the dim moonlit glow beyond the doorway. And the dull ache that had accompanied seeing one less sleeping bag, one less softly breathing form, the missing puzzle piece to completing Team 7 of old, was somehow stilled by the stability of that vision.

The rude awakening she received a few hours later was something that any shinobi had to be prepared for, and she was awake in moments after her sensei's brisk shake and quiet command, weapons pouch strapped on and ready. But what came after, the consequences of their midnight excursion and the subsequent menace to everything she held close to her heart, nothing could have prepared her for that.


	2. Taken

"Naruto, wake up."

Snapping to attention, the blonde ninja jolted upright, one eye gummed shut, rubbing off the side of his face. "K . . Kakashi-sensei?"

"Someone's in the main building. Naruto, take the front entrance. Sakura, back him up. I'll take the upstairs window. Regroup on the landing."

"Yes, sensei," they chorused.

With a swift sonic reverberation, three shadowy shapes darted from the shelter of the outhouse and to their respective positions around the rest-stop. At the front, Naruto, on the left side of the door, looked across to Sakura's half-concealed form. She gave a sharp nod. Wrapping the blanket around his fist, he struck at the fragile lock. It gave under the first blow. He slipped past, dodging the hulking, rough wood dining table that stretched the length of the room and made for the door at the back leading to the stairs to the upper floors. Sakura was right behind him, body turned slightly to sweep the room with her gaze. He could sense the condensed chakra around her left fist, bowstring taut and tightly controlled. The musty smell of old food scraps, unwashed dishes and vegetable waste wafted over to them from the scullery as they passed. And a soft clink of cutlery being subtly shifted by someone who obviously did not want to be detected. Glancing slightly over his shoulder, Naruto jerked his head. Nodding, Sakura bypassed the door, tightening the glove over her 'good' fist.

Hand forming seals rapidly, Naruto twisted the brass handle, swinging the door wide, kunai at the ready. "Kage bunshin no jutsu!"

Three identical clones appeared in billowing puffs of smoke. A louder clatter from the kitchen and a heavy muffled thump, with all the resonance of a chakra laden punch, met his ears. He grinned. One down. From the staircase above another heavy thud and frantic breathing. Kakashi had probably let this one go to secure the merchant upstairs, in the knowledge that they would deal with the intruder down here. A stumbling shape appeared ahead, freezing halfway down the staircase when he spied Naruto at ground level.

The shinobi obviously felt that he would rather take his chances with this boy than with the terror waiting upstairs. Drawing three kunai and letting fly, he saw the blonde-haired boy duck into the safety of the dining room. Seizing his chance, the intruder launched himself at the open doorway, only to find himself in a tight stranglehold, with two more pairs of arms fastening around his waist and legs. One solid punch to the ribs later found him winded on the floor, wrists and ankles tightly bound with wire. The clones holding him down vanished in noisy puffs and the young shinobi above him rubbed a finger under his pert nose, sniffing disdainfully.

"Just as hopeless as the other one. What's happening to shinobi standards, Sakura-chan?"

"Come on, idiot, let's go find -"

"Naruto! Sakura!" The urgency in their sensei's tone caused them both to tense instantly.

"Kakashi-sensei?" Sakura called tentatively. A moment later, the jounin appeared in the doorway, hardly sparing a glance for the bound man at his feet. "Igarashi-san. He's gone."

"WHAT?" Naruto stared in disbelief. "These dickheads? They took him?"

"It appears so." Kakashi had already sliced his thumb, squatting to slam his hand onto the dusty wooden floorboards. Pakkun yawned back at them when the smoke had dispersed.

"Long time no see, two legged friends."

Kakashi held up a cotton shirt. "Track this scent, Pakkun. We need to move fast."

"Wait," Sakura was frowning deeply, "How did they get past us? These guys are amateurs!"

She received a grave shake of the head. "Igarashi-san's been gone for some time. Someone hired these idiots as decoys."

"But-"

"Guys," Naruto interrupted, pointing up the staircase. They looked up to see a growing audience, muffled whispers carrying down to them. The owner of the rest-stop came down partway, stomach bulging over tight pajama bottoms.

"What's going on here?" There was an audible quake in the man's voice. "Who's that on the floor?"

"An intruder," Kakashi interjected smoothly, rising from his position beside Pakkun, "Tell me, did you hear any suspicious noises during the night? Any sign or sound of a struggle?"

The portly man shook his head, a hint of self-righteous indignation creeping into his tone, "Certainly not. At least, not until you people came in here and started throwing the furniture around -"

"Can it, grandpa!" snapped Naruto, "Igarashi-san's missing!"

"Wha - "

"No time," Kakashi cut in curtly, "Naruto, leave one of your kage bunshin behind to interrogate this one." He kicked the man on the floor who groaned and rolled over, clutching his stomach. "Sakura - "

She shook her head. "The one in the kitchen got a head-on hit. He won't be waking any time soon."

"Pakkun, do you have the scent?"

"Yes, boss. Heading east and fast."

"Let's go. I'll brief you two on the way."

Leaving the dumbfounded owner, a crowd of confused patrons and one bruised, bound shinobi, the three took off, dark streaks pelting through the night towards the forest. The blonde, orange-clad clone in the doorway watched them go, then turned to his captive, knuckles cracking, as ominous as the sharp-toothed grin that spread across his face. The gathering on the staircase took a collective step backwards. He approached the trussed form on the floor and turned him over with deceptive gentleness, rolling up one sleeve.

"Talk, bastard, or this fat ojiisan will be throwing your fingers out with the potato peels tomorrow."

* * *

Shikamaru was on guard duty. Of course, anyone who knew him well enough would know that 'guard duty' was simply a synonym for watching the clouds. On his back, preferably with a blade of grass between his teeth. There were many synonyms in Shikamaru's internal thesaurus for watching the clouds. Grocery shopping, training, helping genin, tutoring academy students, to name a few. Nobody tried to talk him out of this manner of passing the time. And so it was that the ANBU found him easily. The patrol roster had his name listed next to training ground 6. It was precisely in the middle of training ground 6 that the chuunin had settled himself comfortably.

"Nara Shikamaru, you are to report to the Hokage's office urgently."

The ponytail shifted as Shikamaru moved his head a fraction. "How urgently?"

The ANBU appeared at a loss for words. Then came a stiff, "Now."

"Right. Coming." Standing and dusting himself off, he turned to find the ANBU absent, as he had expected. Heaving a heavy sigh, he cast a glance up at the lone drifting cloud in his field of vision. "Troublesome."

* * *

The Hokage's office was a hive of barely controlled activity with Shizune as the frazzled, untidy hub at its center. Tsunade merely appeared tired and thoroughly annoyed, as he could see from the thin set of her lips and the way her hand occasionally twitched as if about to pour an imaginary drink.

"Shizune," she snapped as he entered, "Get the files for Shikamaru."

"Yes, Tsunade-sama!"

"You asked for me, Hokage-sama?" he inquired.

"Of course, brat, I didn't send the ANBU to make you feel important."

Oh dear. "Oh. Right. So . . . will you brief me?"

Tsunade sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Don't play dumb. You must have heard from Ino. That girl could gossip enemy-nin into their graves."

He studied the ceiling for a moment. "Hm. Those executions."

"Executions?" Her gaze sharpened in a way he wasn't sure he liked. "So you've been thinking about this, eh?"

"Actually - "

"Excellent. So you'll take the case?"

"Case?"

"Finding out who is responsible," she explained impatiently.

It took him a few moments to catch up to her. "Hokage-sama? You want me to - "

"Yes, you, Nara." She leaned forward, fingers linked thoughtfully under her chin. "You've proved yourself, both in the field and behind a desk. Quite frankly, you are the best analytical mind we have available. This kind of case is no walk in the park. When shinobi kill each other, it's order of the day, unless it happens to be your own comrades. However, this is strictly related to civilians. Random attacks. Just the thing to spark panic and disorder in Konoha." She sighed. "The victims appear to be random targets. This may be the case, however, your particular skill is . . . lateral thinking, so to speak. You can predict with great accuracy, see connections and patterns when everyone else stumbles around in the dark. That's what's needed for this. That's what I need you to provide."

Shikamaru was, for entirely different reasons than normal, completely lost for words. To hear this kind of praise when the world had been screaming at him to get off his ass and be 'useful' for years (with the exception of Asuma-sensei who, in many ways, had been just as lazy as he was), and coming from the Hokage no less, was . . .

"Troublesome," he sighed. "I'll take the case."

Tsunade, despite herself, cracked a smile. "As if you had a choice. Shizune will give you the case files. You will be working in conjunction with Commander Sato Benjirou of the Konoha police force. Report all information gathered to him, he reports directly to me. You will also have other assistance. The ANBU, Hawk, will be at your disposal should you require information with higher clearance. He was at the site of one of the killings. Make sure you gather everything of importance from him. Shizune?"

Her assistant looked up from where she had been gathering the relevant files and hurried over, pressing them into his hands. "I'm in charge of the autopsy reports, Shikamaru-san. I performed them myself, so come down to the morgue later to look over the bodies and discuss the details with me."

He nodded his understanding, was summarily dismissed, and so found himself embroiled in events that even he could not foresee the vital significance of in the near future. If he had known, he might have read those reports at lightning speed and completed his first analysis within the hour. Or maybe not. It was better not to rush these things.

* * *

The forest swallowed them in immediate dampness and bone-chilling cold. Pakkun led the way, Kakashi following his diminutive form, Sakura and Naruto close behind. "Listen up, you two," the jounin called to them. Neither of them dreamed of not paying attention. Kakashi was using his serious voice.

"We never heard Igarashi-san leave the premises. Either the assailant incapacitated him immediately upon entry without alerting us, suggesting a skilled shinobi, or there was some hold the assailant exercised over him to make him go willingly. There was no sign of a struggle."

"The money!" exclaimed Naruto, "That stingy old goat would never let it go."

Kakashi nodded. "Entirely possible. There was no trace of the money when I searched the room. But remember, if they took the money as a coercion tactic, then the weaker the shinobi. They preferred manipulation over brute force. This does not mean we should be less careful. We may be facing a small time crook, but he'll be a cunning little shit who, most probably, set traps for us in advance."

Sakura drew level with him. "Sensei, those guys back at the house . . . "

"Decoys, as I said before. Naruto's kage bunshin will most probably get nothing much out of them. I'll lay a bet that they received written instructions on a scroll with a self-destruct jutsu and picked up the money for the job at a drop point."

"So this guy who took Igarashi-san . . . might be a hired heavy too, right? The one in charge wouldn't risk being out in the open, would he?"

Kakashi smiled behind his mask. Ah, they grew up so fast. "Good thinking, Sakura. But this kidnapping, the amateurish thugs, it smacks of a low level operation. Whoever he or she is, they didn't have the resources to pick a wealthier, heavily guarded victim. Whoever took Igarashi-san is probably the one directly heading the operation."

She nodded and fell back. Pakkun paused in his tracks, hopping lightly onto a protruding branch, nose twitching. "Not long now, Kakashi. They're near."

"Hm. I sense two. Either he ran out of hired help, or they're concealing themselves very well . . . Single file, you two. Naruto, take the rear. Stay alert. Watch for traps."

So saying, he shot off the branch after Pakkun, trailing the two young shinobi in his wake.

* * *

They halted within fifteen minutes of their short briefing, Kakashi motioning for them to stop with a raised hand. Pakkun vanished in a puff of smoke. Alighting on branches above and below the jounin, Naruto and Sakura scanned the area swiftly. Sakura glanced upward past Kakashi, who seemed entirely focused on the clearing beyond, and caught Naruto's eye, giving him a quick shake of the head. He returned the gesture. No enemy shinobi as far as either of them could sense or see.

And yet . . . she looked at Kakashi again, realizing that most of her disquiet emanated from his stance and attitude. Years spent as his pupil had taught her the nuances in his moods, so much more subtle and difficult to read than Naruto and even Sasuke had been. Not to mention that pesky mask . . . and right now, he was as vigilant as only he could be. Kakashi never tensed visibly. His body language was trained to a level she could only dream of. But there was a certain battle-ready air to him, a tension coiled in his powerful, wiry frame that told one very clearly that he did not like the situation. And that it might end in a great deal of bloodshed. Fighting the urge to shiver, she looked away and concentrated on the clearing ahead. At the base of a tree, directly 12 o' clock to their position, a dark shape lay huddled, the form and approximate size indistinct in the shadows cast from behind.

"Naruto. Sakura. I'm going in. Watch the rear and the trees around the area carefully. The other chakra signatures I picked up earlier are gone."

"But - "

"No 'buts' Naruto," his voice was uncharacteristically sharp. "Follow my orders." So saying, he promptly vanished from the branch above her.

Sakura gritted her teeth. _Something . . . something's not right. And whatever it is, Kakash-sensei feels it too . . ._

The branch beside her dipped slightly under Naruto's added weight. Turning to him, she saw by the tension in his face, that he didn't like this any more than she did. In the clearing ahead, Kakashi appeared, what little moonlight there was filtering into the small space and glinting on his distinctive silver hair. They saw him approach the huddled shape in slow measured strides.

"Igarashi-san?"

He was speaking clearly and audibly, as much for their benefit as the merchant's. There was no answer to his query. Squatting to the side of the shape on the ground, giving them both a clear line of vision to what was happening in the clearing, he called the man's name again, slightly louder this time and accompanied by a firm shake. There was a faint stirring, a shuddering movement in the huddled form. Sakura heard a low moan, a muffled sound then more unintelligible noises, rising rapidly in volume. It was Igarashi, and he was bound and gagged. Beside her, Naruto caught his breath. Kakashi reached out, tugged at the gag and cut away the bindings. Whatever had been obscuring Igarashi's ability to speak came free. She heard him choke, throat sounding dry and hoarse from shouting.

"Get . . . get me out! He did a thing . . . a . . . a jutsu . . . please! We have to get out!"

She was on her feet instantly, hand flying to her weapons pouch. Simultaneously, the clearing was lit by an eerie glow as a complex seal showed in luminous green lettering all across the bindings that had fallen away from Igarashi's form. The pattern spread out radially, shooting in all directions towards points on specific trees where resonating green seals glowed into life. Watching the events unfold as if in slow motion, Sakura saw Kakashi grip Igarashi, lifting his slight form right off the ground and hurling him out of the jutsu's range. The old man landed just within the bright circle, stumbling to his feet and scrambling desperately out of harm's way. Naruto leapt from the branch beside her, launching himself towards the clearing.

"Kakashi-sensei! Get out of there!"

It took her a moment to follow him, her legs unnaturally leaden, heart pounding in her throat. There was something off about Kakashi's stance. His lower body seemed strangely immobile and he looked up, his dark grey eye and the Sharingan, which he had exposed somewhere along the line, both widening in dismay.

"Naruto! Get back!"

Then it hit her. _He can't move! The seal is binding him!_

Her foot struck out at the nearest branch, propelling her as fast as possible backwards, away from the clearing. Her voice, to her own ears, was high pitched, cracking in desperation. "NARUTO! NO!"

But Konoha's number one knuckle-headed ninja was deaf to her warning. As deaf to her as only the danger to a comrade and loved one could make him. Ignoring Kakashi's horrified shout and her own screams, he propelled himself directly at the jounin, aiming to knock him out of the jutsu's path by the force of his momentum.

"Kage bunshin no jutsu!"

A clone appeared in mid-air, grabbing Naruto by the wrist and flinging him with all the force it could muster in Kakashi's direction. Below him the seal glowed brighter, new rows of complex script running from the radial points on the surrounding trees back towards the center of the clearing; directly towards Kakashi. Naruto collided with him at the exact moment the seal coalesced and cast a blinding light in all directions, forcing her to throw up a hand to shield her eyes. When the light had dispersed, she dropped her hand, leaping to the ground and bursting out of the trees, eyes widening in horror as she took in the absence of her team-members.

"Naruto! Kakashi-sensei!" She spun in a dizzying circle, hysteria threatening to burst through her rib cage, "Naruto! Damn it, WHERE ARE YOU?"

Her cries went unanswered, the forest echoing back the plea mockingly. Behind her she heard a small sound, a groan. Spinning on her heel, she almost burst into tears when she saw that it was only Igarashi, leaning against a tree and clutching his chest. For a moment, she had forgotten his existence.

_No, no, NO! What happened? Where are they?_

Another groan came from the merchant as he sank to the ground, panting hard. The sight of another human being in distress stilled her somewhat, the natural-born medic within her taking over in the face of the irrational. She moved toward him automatically, green healing chakra gathering around her palm. Kneeling, she saw that he had suffered what looked like a mild stroke. Considering his age and the stresses he had been subjected to, it was not surprising. As she checked his heart and internal organs for any signs of damage, another part of her mind rebelled, casting panic and fear into every motion.

_Please let them be all right. Please, not them. Not Naruto and Kakashi-sensei. My only team . . . my family._

She backed away from Igarashi momentarily, covered and rubbed vigorously at her face, breathed in once, twice, slow and easy. The hands she returned to his trembling form were wet and as steady as the ground beneath her.


	3. Cold Comfort

She returned to the site of her team-mates' disappearance immediately after ensuring that Igarashi was properly installed with bed, food, medication and the host's wife to watch over him back at the rest stop. The clearing looked a lot less intimidating in the light of day, the trees that had seemed to loom with such ominous shadows now appearing fresh and gilded by the sun's rays on their dew-drop spattered leaves. She paused for a minute just outside the open space and closed her eyes, focusing her memory on which trees those seals had lit up last night. There had been five points in a radial pattern, she recalled, almost spaced like the five points of a drawn star. Nodding firmly once she had their positions fixed in her mind, Sakura made her way around the clearing, checking the trees carefully. There were no visible markings that she could see, almost no trace of the strange jutsu that has spirited her companions away. Frustrated, she searched the surrounding forest, all to no avail.

Returning to the clearing, she sat cross-legged in the middle, trying hard to recall everything she had learnt about this type of jutsu. It was definitely of the fuuinjutsi, or sealing jutsu, type. Fortunately her medic training had given her some level of proficiency with these. Remembering one particular lesson, she made her way to one of the trees that she had marked out before and knelt before it, placing one hand gently on the rough bark. Sitting still for a while, she regulated her chakra flow and let out a small, precisely measured pulse into the rough bark. To her delight, there was an answering resonance, a returned signal, a memory in the tree bark of the seal that had been traced there many hours before. Eyes snapping open, she beheld a glow in the bark, a faint remnant of the blinding light that had characterized the activation of the seal. Quickly, she memorized the pattern before scribbling it down on an empty scroll she had brought for the purpose. Repeating the process, she found that all five trees had different signatures, each of the same hierarchy in forming the seal. The portion of the highest order had been inscribed on Igarashi's bindings and was obviously the activation point. Kakashi's slicing of the bindings had activated the jutsu, thus immobilizing himself.

Pen poised at her lip, she thought about this for a moment. It was now glaringly obvious that Igarashi had not been taken by mere robbers or kidnappers. The money had been found on him, fastened within his jacket and attached to a cast iron chain. Such was the man's concern for his earnings. If the abductors had been after the money, there would have been no chance of it escaping their attention. So the only viable conclusion was that Igarashi had been taken to lure Team Kakashi into that exact space in the forest and have them release the jutsu.

_So their target was Kakashi-sensei?_

That would not surprise her. Despite their largely casual relationship with their former sensei, both she and Naruto were well aware of his almost revered status in the shinobi world. There were probably hundreds of capable shinobi from other hidden villages who wanted to take his life in revenge. Not to speak of his former days as an ANBU Black Ops captain where he held the current record for most years spent in service. Then again, to get Sharingan Kakashi and Kyuubi host Naruto in one go . . . it would be a major blow to Konoha.

_Damn! I need to get this information to Tsunade-shishou as fast as possible!_

On the same scroll on which she had transcribed the portions of the seal that she had deciphered, she composed a letter to Tsunade, describing in concise detail all the incidents that had occurred from the kidnapping of Igarashi to present time. Once she was done, she straightened, collected her belongings and sped off to find the nearest postal service. They were quite a distance from Konoha and if she made use of the field shinobi stationed there, it would reach the Hokage in two days. Aware of how the system worked, she knew that Tsunade would dispatch a search squad immediately upon receiving the missive. It would also give her enough time to complete the escort mission and return, hopefully meeting up with the search squad on the way and joining with them to find her team-mates.

_Naruto . . . Kakashi-sensei, we'll find you. No matter what._

* * *

There was nothing of much value in the files, as Shikamaru had expected. However, that was based on the first cursory perusal. He had made lists of items to cross-check for possible links between the victims. Work-places, family, hobbies, residential addresses, to name a few. The first victim, in chronological order, was Nakamura Ryo, a landscaper for Konoha's north sector residential areas. He had no known family, an on-and-off relationship with a waitress working at a local restaurant and seemed a popular, easy-going man among his many friends. He had been found, throat slashed, sitting in front of a half-empty beer bottle in his kitchen, by his neighbour who had dropped by to visit and chat, as was their custom. The second victim, Tanaka Masao, a carpenter, found dead at his own workbench. The third, Matsuo Fumiko, a mother of two, found by her elder son upon his return from the academy. The fourth, Inoue Kenzo, newly married and rising rapidly through the ranks of a local trading company, had somehow managed to stumble to his own doorstep from the living room and collapse across the back-stairs leading to the yard where his wife had been hanging up clothes to dry.

A team of genin had been on the last scene and one of them had reported the incident, while the other two had secured the scene until the ANBU had arrived. Mildly impressed, Shikamaru flipped through to the witness page and found their names. Sarutobi Konohamaru. Aha. That noisy kid who dressed in bed-sheets and perpetually imitated Naruto's Sexy-no-jutsu. Apparently, he had grown into a reliable young shinobi. Who knew? Maybe he should speak to him later, see if there were any lasting impressions that those who appeared on the scene later may have missed . . . Glancing at the clock, he was surprised to find how time had flown. Gathering up the reports, he stored them away and slipped on his flak jacket and weapons pouch. Nodding to his father, he stepped out into the cool Konoha evening and made his way to the morgue.

* * *

The four corpses were laid out in a row, white surgical sheets covering them from just below the shoulders to the ankles. The slit throats, so vivid in the photographs taken at the scene, had faded to a dull red colour, a dry, clinical, burgundy slash of discrimination against these innocent civilians. At least, that's how it seemed to Shikamaru. These were ANBU execution-style wounds. Quick, soundless kills. These untrained, unarmed civilians had never stood a chance, never seen their deaths coming. These were no war wounds that he could stare at without rancour, with shinobi detachment. Something within him squirmed at the sight and he looked away at Shizune who had been standing beside him, staring silently straight ahead, her professionalism allowing him to first form his own impression before giving her report.

"No other wounds beside the throat?"

She shook her head and approached the steel tables. "Nothing else. No bruises or defense wounds. This was done quickly and professionally by someone who definitely knew what they were doing. Of course, the fact that these were civilians means the killer put in minimal effort. This was the work of a shinobi, but how skilled he or she was, we have no idea."

"Like a mission."

"Pardon?"

"The way he killed them."

She seemed puzzled. "What do you mean?"

He strolled towards the nearest victim, the mother-of-two. Matsuo Fumiko. She had been an attractive woman in life. He could tell that she was tall from her relative height to the men and had a pretty, heart-shaped face. "Don't worry, you'll read all my conclusions in the report." He nodded towards Fumiko's throat. "Weapon?"

"Almost certainly a kunai. The killer was right-handed. We lifted no fingerprints from the corpse or surrounding scene that points to anyone outside their family or friends."

He paced away from Fumiko and stood looking at the corpses from a little further off. Then he approached the last victim, Inoue Kenzo. Shikamaru examined his unremarkable, square-jawed face, the unexpectedly strong musculature of the upper torso, and then looked up at her inquiringly. She nodded and gave him a wry smile.

"I knew you would notice." She indicated the slash pattern. "A jugular cut, but not deep enough to kill immediately. This was what enabled Inoue to survive long enough to reach the back door."

"It was deliberate."

"That's certain. He was cut at a precise angle like the others, no hesitation."

"So the killer wanted him to suffer."

"Yes," she nodded slowly, "Him in particular."

_Now that was interesting._

Thanking Shizune for her time, he left the morgue, taking a round-about route back to the Nara compound so that he passed the outer fortification of Konoha that over-looked the houses scattered over the hill to the east of the village. The valley out of his range of vision was where Inoue and his wife had been found by the three genin. Pausing for a moment on the outer wall, Shikamaru took some time to ponder why a shinobi, if that's what the killer was, would fixate so randomly on these people. Inoue hadn't even entered the village that much. The file stated that he did a lot of the book-keeping from the company offices on the river docks and made weekly trips into Konoha itself for buying groceries and house-hold items. If the killer had been selecting victims, it was unlikely that he did this simply by watching patterns of the victims' movements within Konoha and selecting them based on ease of the kill. That, and the fact that Inoue's death had been slightly different from the others, hinted at a personal motive. These people were either known to the killer or had caught his attention for a specific reason.

When he eventually returned to the compound, his mother gave him an earful about letting his supper get cold. But when she served him the re-heated food, she surprised him with a kiss on the forehead. "Working hard on this case, I see." She pinched his cheek forcefully a moment later. "And if you slack off, I _will_ know."

Digging into his meal, Shikamaru felt a sudden pang of sympathy for the boy who had returned from the academy to find his mother dead. Shinobi or not, there were certain things, certain bonds, that nobody should break.

* * *

When he awoke, the first thing he was aware of was a dull pain behind the eyes. Raising his head slightly, he waited for a few moments to ensure that no further discomfort ensued from the action. He raised a hand, waved it about before his nose.

_Good, vision not impaired._

He did another check of arms, legs, ran his hands over his torso.

_Still good so far._

There was a slight tear in his right pants leg and he felt a sting when he moved the limb, but whatever damage had been done had already been rendered negligible by the healing ability of the Kyuubi. He raised himself on his elbows, stopping dead, eyes widening in horror. The ground beneath him felt softer than it should, strange rectangular shapes outlined against his forearms. The ground was also breathing softly.

"Shit!"

He shot forward, scrambling around on all fours to behold the sight of his unconscious sensei. Kakashi was sprawled out, hitae-ate entangled in his silver hair where it had dislodged in the fall. He had obviously positioned himself to take the brunt of the impact at the very last moment so that his former student landed directly across his torso, the thick flak jacket with its multiple pockets providing impromptu air-bags to cushion him.

"KAKASHI-SENSEI!" He shook the jounin wildly and none-too-gently, panic rapidly settling in. All he achieved was the complete removal of the hitae-ate which slid out of Kakashi's hair with a soft clunk. "Wake up, sensei!"

Sitting back on his haunches, he pressed his hands to either side of his head in an attempt to marshal his thoughts.

_Think, idiot, think. What would Sakura-chan do?_

Check his vital signs, came the distant answer from somewhere within, the part of his mind that had actually paid some small attention when the pink-haired medic administered first aid.

"Right. Okay. It's gonna be all right Kakashi-sensei." Speaking aloud calmed him somewhat, made him feel a little more in control. "Let's have a look at you."

He unzipped the bulky vest and pushed it aside carefully, pressing two fingers to Kakashi's neck to check for a pulse. He almost shouted out in relief when he felt it jump beneath his fingers, weak but steady. "That's great, sensei! You're alive! Keep it up!"

Next he checked Kakashi's limbs for any sign of cuts or bruises. Besides the small, bloody mark on the jounin's thumb where he had sliced it to summon Pakkun, there was no other damage that Naruto could see or feel. That left his torso and back. Carefully, he lifted Kakashi's shirt and pushed his hand within to prod for broken ribs. His fingers came into contact with something cold.

_Huh? Metal?_

He dipped his head and caught sight of a mesh shirt. "Kakash-sensei, you're so paranoid, seriously." Tongue sticking out one side of his mouth, he eased the mesh shirt out of Kakashi's waistband and checked beneath that, rolling his eyes when he came into contact with another layer of material, this time a thin vest, probably attached to the mask. "No wonder you never get laid. Once you get past the third layer, she's probably asleep."

A swift examination revealed that all ribs were intact, if a trifle bruised by the impact of Naruto's landing. "Now you just need to wake up." He frowned slightly. "Huh. That's funny." He knew that his sensei was made of much tougher stuff than most people were aware of, so there was no reason for him to still remain unconscious when Naruto himself had recovered some time ago. The only possible explanation that remained was chakra exhaustion, God knew, Kakashi was on the receiving end of that often enough. The questions that remained were how and why it had occurred . . .

For the first time, Naruto paid attention to his surroundings. The sight of Kakashi's comatose form had seemed to blot out everything else. Now, eyes widening as he surveyed the surrounding area, he took stock of their situation. Their landing had been a spot of fortune, by the looks of it. They were positioned in a small clearing, surrounded by dense vegetation, and if there were not certain obvious pointers indicating that they were in an entirely different place, he might have mistaken it for the clearing they had departed from a short while ago. For a start, it was much warmer, a dense, muggy atmosphere that weighted down his clothes with uncomfortable stickiness, in direct contrast to the temperate climate that characterized Fire Country. The foliage around them was dense and tropical, the trees forming a latticed canopy that allowed almost no breeze at ground level. Thick creepers roped and wound about the visible trunks. The hum of cicadas was loud and constant, the air heavily scented with damp earth and ripe vegetation.

_A fucking jungle? Where the hell are we?_

Turning, he saw low hills that gained height as they linked to the feet of a mountain range, approximately thirty miles from their current position, the range itself passing well beyond his line of sight to the east. Even though Naruto had never been one to pay attention, or be present for that matter, in most of his geography or diplomacy classes at the academy, he did know that Earth Country was characterized by their mountainous borders.

"NO. No way. That's not possible!" He shook his head as if to clear it of unnecessary thoughts. "No bloody way. There's no jutsu that can do that."

And yet, there was the irrefutable evidence before his eyes, their hulking, massive shapes clearly outlined in the watery dawn light. "There are mountains somewhere in Fire Country, I just can't think where. Kakashi-sensei will know, I just have to wait til' he wakes up."

So saying, he turned his back on the mountains as if they had offended his personal sense of honour and strode back to Kakashi. To his relief, the jounin's breathing looked a little easier and he appeared to be asleep. Squatting beside the recumbent man, he attempted to make him a little more comfortable, folding the flak jacket and placing it under his head as a form of makeshift pillow. There was no need for a blanket as the weather was rapidly heating up, so Naruto simply retrieved the hitae-ate and placed it back on Kakashi's brow. His hand paused for a second, a devilish expression crossing his face as his fingers ghosted lower to the mask, but some internal ethical rule book spoke volubly against it. He sniffed loudly and tugged the hitae-ate over the Sharingan, then thought about it for a second and pulled it over both eyes. The bright sun wouldn't allow Kakashi adequate rest and Naruto didn't like the look of the trees enough to drag his sensei over to their shade. "Next time, sensei. It'll be more fun tricking you into taking it off."

He rose, dusting off his pants, then crossed his fingers in a distinctive seal. "Kage bunshin no jutsu!"

The clone appeared in a cloud of smoke, perky and smiling brightly, the smile rapidly fading as stock was taken of their surroundings. "Where the fuck-"

"Don't ask!" snapped Naruto, "No idea! Just go scout already!"

"Hmph. Whatever."

As soon as the clone had taken off, Naruto was struck by a sudden thought.

_Sakura-chan!_

He remembered her calling after him before the jutsu hit, and, from what he remembered, she had gotten herself well out of the jutsu's range. But that meant she had been left behind, alone, confused and terrified for them. He gritted his teeth.

_Don't worry, Sakura-chan. Even if we were on the moon, Kakashi-sensei and I will handle ourselves just fine._

Left with his sleeping sensei, Naruto took a position near Kakashi, kunai twirling between his fingers as he took the first, solitary vigil.


End file.
